


Douglas' Chair

by DictionaryWrites



Category: Cabin Pressure
Genre: Chair Sex, Desperation, M/M, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Riding
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-11-17
Updated: 2013-11-17
Packaged: 2018-01-01 21:06:52
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 623
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1048569
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DictionaryWrites/pseuds/DictionaryWrites
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Written for a prompt on the Cabin Pressure kink meme. Martin riding Douglas, unable to come.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Douglas' Chair

Martin was taking in desperate little breaths as he lowered himself down, his eyes closed, his expression deliciously tortured. “Oh, God.” He whimpered to himself as he bottomed out, and Douglas cooed.

"That’s it, Martin, that’s it." His hands were tied behind his back, his thighs braced either side of Douglas where they were settled in the winged armchair that dominated Douglas’ sitting room, and he was already trembling just slightly.

With his hands tied behind his back, Martin had no hope of getting even the slightest bit of friction on his cock, and without at least a small touch to his cock, Martin had no hope at all of coming. Douglas steadied his hands on Martin’s hips, looking up at his flushed-red face with a little grin. 

"Are you ready?" Martin took in a small, shuddering breath, and then he nodded. "Off you go." And then Martin was lifting himself up, his thighs quaking with the effort and strain put into the muscle there, and yes, yes, later Douglas would have to massage the soreness out of them and leave Martin crying out underneath him, soft noises muffled by the pillow under his face as he went more and more relaxed.

For now, the view was yet better than Martin’s buttocks and shifting body as he whined under the attentions of Douglas’ clever hands, this charming view of Martin straining, sweat beading on his collar bones and his forehead, his cock red and ready between his legs and resting against Douglas’ stomach - not closely enough, of course, to cause any real friction.

Martin sped himself up as best he could given the awkward position, but soon enough his neck and cheeks were fleshed a beautifully heady scarlet, his lips quivering, his hair beginning to stick to his forehead. “How is it, darling?” Douglas asked, and he kept his hands on Martin’s hips, steadying him, reading to catch him should he fall.

"Thick." Martin bit out the word, not terribly good at being verbal when he was so delightfully distracted. "Thick, big. Fuck." He closed his eyes tightly, strain obvious all across his face, and Douglas couldn’t  _help_  but smirk a little, pleased with the sight before him and the charming weight warming his thighs.

"That’s it, that’s it. Quicker, now." And Martin obeyed without a thought, and he was oh-so- _terribly_  good like this, with little whimpers burbling from the back of his throat, whimpers that became drawn out whines as Douglas leaned back in his chair and let Martin fuck himself further.

He began to lift Martin with his hands instead of letting the boy take his time, and then within a minute he was  _bouncing_  Martin, vigorous and quick and rapid, and the younger man was letting out loud, desperate cries, occasionally dropping into babbled begging as he dropped his head back.

His cock was leaking, a white slick soaked between both of their bellies, and soon enough Martin’s begging was barely coherent but with a new edge of true desperation. “Douglas! Douglas, please, dear Go-need it-“ 

Douglas sped his pace, coming closer to coming as he looked upon the beautiful form in his lap, and when he finally came, he took mercy. Martin was clenching greedily around him, and when he actually put his hand to Martin’s cock, the boy released a sound that was more of a scream than anything else.

Martin was breathing heavily and hard as he relaxed, clinging desperately to the other man. “Shit.” He said, and Douglas chuckled, gently easing him off his cock and holding him in his lap. “My thighs hurt.” He grumbled, and Douglas kissed the sensitive skin of his neck.

"Yes. I’ve rather a plan in mind for that, actually…"


End file.
